


NO HERO

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Control, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Is this a marriage?, Lots of Sex, Seven the virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 16:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15953273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: This story, from Chakotay's POV is a companion piece to "Night Visitor", set a few months after the first story, and after Chakotay and Seven married. Here's a bleak look into the anatomy of this marriage. Chakotay is not heroic here, as I've warned in a thread on VAMB.





	NO HERO

**Author's Note:**

> A companion piece to "Night Visitor", both pieces written in September of 2004. Perhaps I might add new pieces, for I am essentially a J/C at heart!

* * *

 

NO HERO   
  
Seven's looked at me with the impassiveness I had come to expect in these last months. Had she become so immured with human traits that she had perfected the art of inscrutability? I couldn't read her face or puncture the barrier to get a glimpse of an emotion - anger, resentment, any kind of reaction that my words should have had on her. They were damning enough to get a reaction from even the strongest. Even her…  
  
She stood in our bedroom, her face aloof and icy, like in those first days after she was severed from the Borg. The impenetrability of her gaze angered me in an instant. It was a rage that died as soon as it rose in me. For at night she was wet and soft and submissive in my arms, pleading with me to give her pleasure. What did I have to complain about? 

 Only that I told her about what Janeway was doing.  
  
"I've known since our marriage that Captain Janeway has taken a lover," she said matter-of-factly.   
  
Her words cut like a sliver of ice through me. A statement of fact, produced with the same flatness of tone she had every time we had sex, "It will get better, Chakotay. Tomorrow night I'll behave, I promise you that."   
  
Of course Kathryn took a lover. There was not a soul on board Voyager who didn't know or speak about it with hushed respect. That reverence, that acceptance was the hardest to swallow - the way the crew blessed her and her lover and condemned me and my lover. Resentment rose in me like an ancient bomb that mushroomed into the air and destroyed all in its wake.  
  
I could hear them even above Seven's own guttural sounds and cries that mingled with mine in the stillness of the night. That first night, my night with my virgin Annika Hansen lying before me with legs spread wide and innocence written all over her… I couldn't help hearing Kathryn Janeway and her lover right next door. Every sound they made echoed in my brain as I sank my cock into my innocent virgin wife, their cries and keening moans inciting my unbridled lust as Seven and I copulated. Only in those moments, my mind whirling with pangs of pained pleasure, could I subdue my envy and concentrate on making Seven do my bidding.   
  
Yet, they were discreet even as they acknowledged the way the crew blessed their union. From the hushed murmurings overheard in the mess hall, corridors, turbolifts, engineering, its seems everyone on board thought it was _right_. I was conceited enough, arrogant beyond my jealousy to think she took Noah Lessing to her bed because she couldn't have me. I couldn't wait, Kathryn's turn-hot-turn-cold on me was my undoing when Seven…

 I closed my eyes on Seven's admission, the tone of her entreaty that I suspected was the underlying pain in her words. 

 "What are you afraid of?" I spat at her. "You wanted marriage. I gave you one. Be happy."

 I lost all honour whenever I spoke to her in such a bitter, hard way.  
  
I gave Seven what she wanted - my body, my raging cock, my semen spilling all over her, in her mouth, between those breasts, inside her willing and constantly greedy cunt, in her ass. I gave her my time. Sometimes I was so rough I'm sure she must have thought I was ravaging her. Most of what I did must have been very close. "I like it rough, Chakotay," she'd whisper, just the invitation I needed to expend my raging hunger. It was not the gentle foreplay which began every night's sexual onslaught, but the unbridled anger with which I savaged her and controlled her body. Images of Kathryn and her lover - the spectacular irony that it was Lessing was not lost on me - kept my rage and resentment simmering beneath the surface of decorum whenever Kathryn and I went about our duties during the day. A if nothing disturbed the unbridled sex that had at night. She with him and I with Annika, wife, ex-Borg, scientist and creeping ingénue tutored in all forms of sexual depravity.  
  
She had no one before me, no frame of reference except perhaps searching Voyager's computers and sucking in the depravities. No sex, maybe one or two kisses before we married, but that was the sum total of her experience. I was to her mind, normal. My rage, my haste, my equally hurried spilling of seed in her face and hair and mouth; the perversion of pain and humiliation when she least expected it; breaking through her resistance, her disinclination to have sex with twisted persuasion, remembering only at the end to be gentle, was all to her so goddamn, fucking normal.   
  
She hadn't heard Kathryn and Noah on those first nights. Her own shattering orgasms saw to that. I just fucked her mindless, controlled ease. I loved her in the way a man would love a dear child, with childish affection, only with the innocence of Seven's sex added. In that she was an ingénue who quickly learned to be expressive and wanton. She had to if she wanted me kept to the bed. She was eager, grabbed at me with the sense of someone drowning in lust. It was almost comical seeing the icy cool Borg walking the ship in tight, body-hugging catsuits, imperious in responding to crew, her hauteur all but grating on everyone and seeing the same woman writhing when my cock filled her dripping cunt.  
  
Even that first time, that first night. She was hesitant at first. I had little trouble getting her calm as I held her. Naked she lay on our bed and the fire in my loins spread so quickly, so brazenly that her eyes widened as she looked at my long, erect and flaming hard cock. She had spread her legs wide, with hands that pulled at the crooks of her knees, up, up and splayed for me. Open, her pussy like a wide canyon ready for me to ravage, her anus rosy and tight. Where did she read this?   
  
"Hey…" I cautioned her as I lay next to her, relaxed her knees and pressed my fingers against her sweet cunt, already so wet, laving her, on and on until she squirmed. Her skin felt clammy. Seven looked bemused as I fingered her, spread her folds a like two pages of a book, wide open. From a distance, through the fog of my dreams for another, I realised that what was before me, was all mine, for the taking and the breaking. This was my wife and I had an all access pass to her body and all it offered.  
  
I wanted to take her instantly, ram my cock into her tight, untrained pussy and stretch her walls to kingdom come. I was big, my knob primed and dark and burning for release. The wonder of how I'd slide my cock up that narrow passage was fleeting as I enjoyed the look on her face, her innocence, her naiveté, her breathless awe as I shifted her thigh to lay over mine and so doing giving me more room to prod into her warm cunt. Her hands stroked my face, hesitant at first, and then more boldly touching my hardened nipples as I caressed her clit, a little penis head that looked pink and distended and wet. She gasped as I kept up the slow stroking, often dipping my finger into her slit to keep the clit lubricated. Seven kept staring at me, her face a study in contrasts. I was unprepared for the way her body arched and stiffened. Two fingers slid in deep while my thumb kept her big clit prisoner. Then she spilled, climaxed noisily, looking with stunned surprise at me.   
  
Only then I mounted her, one hand cupping her generous tit and pinching the nipple until she cried out from the pain. My other hand had prised her pussy lips apart and when my cock head nudged insistently at her entrance, found it too tight.   
  
"Seven, I…"   
  
She moved against my head, giving me the signal as she arched for me to connect. I cried out as I rammed my cock home, grazing the narrowness, breaking into the tightness. I was in, and there was no going back. My long, rock hard shaft drove to her hilt. I closed my eyes at the feel of her sheath clamping me, the moistness intoxicating. It felt good lodged in her like that. I watched her eyes, the sudden shock as feeling me deep inside her. My restraint was almost gone, but I wanted to wait, her expression, tell her "You're mine". A low growl crawled from her insides and left as a guttural sound from her throat as I began to pump, pulling tightly out to my tip, ramming back for the warmth; my pounding became a wild, too wild foray into Seven's unknown territory of virginity. Those moments I wanted her, wanted her so badly. My hands grabbed at her giant tits and I fucked her, enjoying the screams, incited by her own response to me. She was giving it to me, and giving generously. Her initial surprise at my entry was only fleeting and being inside a cunt for the first time since Seska… I was hungry, Seven an initiate, the decorum and respect something distant, like an old memory touching the edges of my conscience. 

 As long as I could forget her…  
  
Images of Seska and our aberrations on any surface we could find, our unholy shagging on the Liberty came to me and suddenly, I didn't care anymore. This was Seven's willing body, married to my body and I was enjoying bending her to every will of mine, every notion of debauchery and indecency of sex received and accepted.   
  
After that, I heard the sound next door. Seven still lay in languor, a sexual stupor that I instantly invaded again hearing Kathryn and her lover next door. My nails dug into Seven's skin, scored her, clamped and pinched her nipples while my hips ground into her. I kept Seven screaming the rest of the night while I spilled the last of my seed into her.   
  
In the morning, I kissed her awake. Her eyes heavy and languid from our wedding night.  
  
"I love you, Chakotay. Make love to me again."   
  
"No. Tonight. I must go on duty..."   
  
Her blonde hair, loose, lay fanned about her beautiful face. Her eyes had the sleepy-awake look, and they were smouldering.   
  
"I have to go," I said, preparing to get up, but she grabbed my arm with surprising force.   
  
"Please..."   
  
She lay naked, those huge tits like balls with their nipples very hard. I was aroused, but I watched her intently, deliberately delaying mounting her. It was the morning after our wedding and I was playing games with her. She turned her face away from me. I thought I heard the words 'I love you' again.   
  
I gave a grunt, pulled her knees up and away and fell into her waiting cunt, filling her in the early morning as fully and as hard as I did the night before. I rode her hard, so hard that I don't know when her cries became cries of desperation. I fell against her and held her close to me while I moved in her and waited for her to climax, with my mouth against hers.   
  
"There, that's enough for now..."   
  
She gave me an innocent little smile, a smile that said "I can't wait 'til tonight."

 I left my cabin, my thoughts not on what I did with my wife during the night, but haunted by imaginings of Janeway and her lover, together, clinched.  
  
**   
  
So began my domination of Seven of Nine  
  
Some nights I was more than forceful. I had learned that Noah Lessing spent nights in Kathryn's quarters. I heard them, filled with jealousy that she was not mine.

 Other nights I made Seven beg for my touches. Those were the times I liked. Control was withholding a favour, seeing her beg, glorying in the hold I had on her. It filled me with a kind of diabolic joy that I could make her do whatever I wanted. I'd flip her on all fours on the floor, then mount her from behind, her giant tits bobbing from the excessive motion my thighs slapping against her rounded bottom. I'd burrow myself in her, clamping her hips, my nails digging into her soft flesh, finding pleasure in the way she grunted her approval, if nothing else. She wanted me, and wanted me at all costs. I think of that while I'm rutting her like a dog, looking like dogs in heat. Afterwards she'd lie on the bed, flushed and happy.   
  
One night we were in the mess hall. Kathryn had been talking to one of the crew and I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I was married to a former Borg, a beautiful blonde woman who loved me and I couldn't stop looking at Kathryn Janeway. Was it because she was glowing? Was it because she could look at me with none of the old fire and yearning in her eyes anymore? Was it because that after all, after my wildest denials to the contrary, Noah Lessing made Kathryn happy? 

 She looked happy, with non of the pinched look about her whenever I was like Seven of Nine, begging Kathryn to touch me or give me a look of consent. That never happened as she blew hot and cold on me. When Seven presented herself, I had no qualms choosing someone who wanted me.

I'd seen her look when I told her I was marrying Seven of Nine. That tiny sliver that revealed her surprise and hurt. I wanted to bark at her that I couldn't wait any longer to thrust my cock into her depths. But I know that it hurt her and I enjoyed hurting her that moment, for my anger knew no bounds. Now, Kathryn Janeway was content, the crew all but walking her up the aisle to the altar with Lessing, a man she almost killed.

 Of all the men on Voyager, she took Lessing to her bed. Kathryn smiled, touched a crewman on the shoulder, even laughed out loud. Noah was nowhere to be seen, they were that discreet, but I knew he'd be lying between her legs that night.  
  
Seven had seen my protracted looks at Kathryn as she left. That night in our bed, she was unresponsive, uncommunicative, for the first time refusing to make love. I lay behind her, slid her nightie from her thighs up and sought her sweet pussy. Her legs were clamped, but my persistent caressing made her release her hold and the second she did that, my fingers were in, and she was crying. In and out, on and on I finger fucked her until her body became pliant and soft and her juices spilled over my fingers. Her weeping had turned into sobbing cries of pleasure then. I smiled in the darkness as I flipped her on her knees, spread them and climbed like a dog on her back.   
  
I knew that I could quieten her that way, or kill her resolve to deny me, and push away all her fears that I'd go back to Kathryn. It was easy. There was a night she lay on her side and her quiet sobbing wouldn't stop. I never thought that the Seven of Nine, aloof and straight and smart during the day on Voyager, could lie whimpering for attention.   
  
"Hey, what's wrong, Seven?" I asked her. She kept sobbing quietly, and I had asked her the question while I was stripping myself naked, my cock semi-erect. When she wouldn't answer, I kneeled near her face, turned her so she could look at my cock. I cupped her cheek, lifted her head a little while my free hand guided my cock like a teat into her mouth. She opened her mouth instantly, like a baby groping instinctively towards it food source, she sucked my cock. I smiled at the way her throat moved as I grew hard in her mouth. I let her suck me until she had enough, then raised her to sit while I moved long and hard, feeling energised at the way her teeth grazed my skin. Her hands caught my balls, squeezing them gently just the way I trained her to do. In a series swift, hard thrusts, I freed my cum in her throat.   
  
Whenever she cried, was upset, disturbed, unhappy, that's how I fed her.   
  
She protested vigorously the day I wanted to try something else. I pulled her on all fours, grabbed a clump of her long hair in one hand and with my knee spread her thighs. The fingers fucked her pussy until it became soft and very moist, spilling liberally. Them I pressed her butt cheeks open, smearing her own juices along her crack and into her tight ass, its rose pretty inviting.   
  
"No..."   
  
"You'll like it, don't worry..." I assured her, whispering close to her ear, ramming my cock up her pussy to make it sleek and full of her juices, looking greyish-cream as I pulled out my cock and pressed it against her anus. "Relax..." I ordered, and when she wouldn't, I fucked her pussy with two fingers, feeling Seven's muscles give as she began to enjoy my onslaught.   
  
"See? It's alright," I said as she spilled all over my fingers again. She never realised that my penis tip had popped into her ass hole stretching her. I kept flicking her clit, and the moment she pushed her ass against me, I rammed my cock all the way up. Seven gave one cry, then her body flamed and rocked. Her ass was mine, her clit was mine, her pussy was mine, her tits, her lips, her mouth. I was drowning in the maelstrom of pleasure as I drew my cock out to the tip, then jammed it up her hole again. I heard her sobs, great big sobs that only stopped long after I shot my cum into her and she had collapsed with me on top of her.   
  
She had all of me - my cock, my time, my mindless sex night after night. She had a little of my sympathy, maybe even some love, some affection. My body was hers, burning up every opening she had and she took it gamely.   
  
I can't remember anymore when last I had lain Seven on her back with me over her between her legs, caressing her face, kissing her eyelids, her lips, the hollow in her neck, or ran my fingers through her hair as I gently moved in her. The times she was in my quarters before me, I simply pulled down my trousers and waited for her to work me into a frenzy; my hand would stroke her hair as I fucked her mouth and I would croon to her that everything would be alright, soothing her into further obedience and loving.   
  
"Yes, Seven. Captain Janeway has a lover. What are you afraid of? You have me, haven't you?"   
  
I watched her closely, saw the hesitation in her stance, the eyes that swelled into unhappiness. Maybe it was a statement veiled in the truth, an awareness that after all, her husband belonged to her only, a warning that it was time Chakotay stepped away from Kathryn Janeway for good. It was spectacularly ironic that Seven, lately primed in all manner of sexual depravity, sensed that while her body was locked with mine, being sent into screaming climaxes, I was not with her.   
  
For a moment only, a fleeting moment, I had the urge to haul her into my arms and kiss her fears away; I had the urge to caress her and tell her I belong to her only. But another pair of eyes -  happy, glowing, contented, superimposed themselves upon Seven's face. A pair of eyes in a face so achingly familiar, with hair that flamed in golden tresses about her face...   
  
I knew what Seven wanted to say, even as she turned back to our bedroom, her body proudly erect. I was tied to her in a bond of marriage, for what that was worth. We make mistakes, correct them or regret them for the rest of our lives. Telling myself that the treatment of my wife is the result of my obsession for another woman doesn't make me a hero. I should be happy. I'm married to a beautiful woman-child who loves me, who is loyal, who is proud.   
  
I should be happy.   
  
I imagined Seven's words, words that might have sounded like, "I don't own your heart..."   
  
Seven had everything of me, except my heart, my soul.   
  
No one could pierce my soul the way Kathryn Janeway did.   
  
Maybe that is why I need someone like Seven of Nine. For now. 

****  
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> So you you think out of this mess that is Chakotay and Seven, with Kathryn and Noah, there can be a J/C ultimately?


End file.
